


Follow the Fool

by Chef_Geekier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Forbidden Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Geekier/pseuds/Chef_Geekier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people remembered the story of King Samuel and Queen Lucille, how their arranged marriage helped to create an alliance strong enough to repel the invading hordes of Daemonia. Some remembered the scandalous tale of how King Samuel's older brother Dean, head of the Royal Guard, fell in love with Queen Lucille's personal bodyguard Castiel and frequently bedded the younger man.<br/>No one remembered the young orphan Balthazar, or how he was one day found by Christia's Fool and trained in the profession. No one remembered how he watched over Queen Lucille when she was just a baby, or remembered that it was him who recommended that Castiel be trained as a royal bodyguard. No one remembered everything that Balthazar did for his country and his court.<br/>For Balthazar was a Fool, a Trickster, a Jester. He wasn't important to the public, and was just a nuisance to the nobles. That's okay though, because Balthazar's world revolved around Castiel and Lucille ever since Queen Grace extracted a promise from him one peaceful night. He doesn't mind that once these two have finished grieving no one will remember him. He's just grateful for the time he had with them, even if they did have a habit of breaking his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow the Fool

~NOW~

“It's not fair!”

Castiel couldn't speak, not even to agree with his queen. All he could do was stare at where his best friend was curled up on his side, gasping for air as though he were drowning. He could hear Queen Lucille raging behind him, ordering the assassin found and detailing what she would do once she got her hands on them. King Samuel was doing his best to placate his wife, but Castiel knew it would do no good.

Balthazar had been the one to sing Lucille to sleep when she was a baby, had been the one who taught her all the best rude songs and rhymes as she was growing. He was the one who'd spoken out and gotten Castiel out of the town guards and into a position as Lucille's personal bodyguard.

Now he was dying. All because he hadn't liked the look of a dish that Lucille had been about to eat, and had insisted on trying it first.

“I forbid you to die,” Lucille finally broke down and sobbed in Samuel's arms, and Castiel wanted to echo the sentiment.

“I'll... I'll do my best,” Balthazar gasped out, barely lucid any more. It just sent Lucille further into tears, and spurred Castiel forward to take his friend's hand.

~*~ THEN ~*~

“Huh. That's clever.”

Gabriel glanced over to where the young prince, Raphael, was looking. On a street corner, a young boy was juggling wine bottles, a cap on the ground at his feet with a few coppers in it from passer-bys. Despite looking quite thin and generally unkempt, the boy had a cheeky grin on his face, and several young women nearby were cooing over how adorable he was. Pondering, Gabriel watched as the boy started to sway, almost dancing as he juggled, hands keeping up with the bottles with only a split-second leeway.

It was quite impressive.

As the boy turned and kicked up, tossing the bottles around his leg, someone tossed another one at him. The boy lost his balance and fall to the ground, bottles smashing on the hard dirt as the boy rolled onto his feet. Gabriel looked around, glaring, but the boy didn't seem overly put out.

“Ah get out of it ya fuckers,” the charming-looking boy made a rude gesture towards the offending youths even as he grinned at them, and Gabriel tried to place the accent. The boy was clearly not from this part of Christia. “Just because you're jealous of how popular my hands are, that's no reason to spoil the show for the lovely ladies!”

“Confident, isn't he?” Raphael murmured, and Gabriel nodded.

“He'd make a good apprentice,” the older brother mused.

While Gabriel was technically the second-born child of the king, he'd traded in his circlet for a jester's hat, giving up any chance at becoming king to instead become the king's conscience. As Court Fool, he had free reign to speak his mind at any time about any subject, though it was often masked in jokes and pranks, dances and songs. He'd been contemplating taking on an apprentice for some time now. Seeing this boy who acted so like he had when he was younger solidified the thought, and he stepped forwards, pushing his cloak back to reveal his painted face.

Those nearest immediately drew back, not wanting to draw the attention of the Trickster on themselves, though the boy just looked up curiously. He even took the hand Gabriel offered to help him stand.

“Want to become a Trickster, boy?” Gabriel asked. The boy tilted his head, considering, then nodded.

“My name's Balthazar.”

“Excellent. Come on then, you've much to learn.”

No one tried to stop them as Gabriel picked Balthazar up and set the boy on his shoulders. To Gabriel's delight, Balthazar scrambled up and stood, keeping his balance somehow with one foot either side of Gabriel's head even as the Trickster kept walking normally.

“This is going to be interesting,” Gabriel grinned as he glanced up at the boy.

“It'll be fun,” Balthazar nodded his agreement.

“It's going to be trouble,” Raphael muttered, making Gabriel laugh.

~*~

Balthazar crawled along the beams of the great hall, watching everything unfold beneath him. Gabriel had shown him the best vantage points, how to get to them, and how to remain unseen. The Fools had a reputation for knowing everything that went on in the castle, and much of what went on in the town as well.

Today, they were playing a game. Balthazar had to remain hidden for the whole day, whilst gathering three secrets. It turned out that not only was the court fool responsible for keeping the ruler from getting too full of themselves, they were also the monarch's spy in the court. Not that it was really necessary here – Queen Grace was well-loved, pregnant with her fourth child against all expectations, and though King Christopher was getting on in years, he was still regarded as a wise and just ruler. Crown Prince Michael and Prince Raphael had a fairly amicable relationship for royal siblings, perhaps because there had been nearly ten years between their births.

Balthazar sighed as he lay down, watching Crown Prince Michael – Mikey, according to Gabriel – flirting with a visiting noblewoman. It would be his nineteenth summer soon, and many women were lining up for his attentions. Unlike his parents, though, the Crown Prince was happy to settle for a political marriage when it became necessary. He wasn't opposed to being friendly with his eventual bride, but he seemed to not care about falling in love.

Looking around, Balthazar's gaze wandered outside, and he paused. Several boys, round about his age, were in the training ground being taught weaponry. He crawled closer, part of him wishing that he could be down there as well. While Balthazar loved the Trickster life, he did find it rather lonely at times.

From his perch, Balthazar watched as one boy in particular, smaller than the rest, held back from the fight. The boy had dark hair, was quick on his feet, and waited until the general scrummage was over before he slid in and knocked over the other trainees. Balthazar grinned, already liking the kid who could think about strategy in the middle of a fight.

He felt a presence by his side then and turned, spotting Gabriel on the next beam. The older Trickster grinned, not seeming disappointed in him at all.

“Shows promise, doesn't he?” Gabriel murmured. Balthazar nodded and glanced back, to where the boy was apparently being scolded by one of the teachers.

“Why isn't the guard happy with him?”

“Because he showed initiative,” Gabriel shrugged, laying back on the beam and smiling at the roof. “The general guard aren't meant to think for themselves.”

“Oh.” Balthazar continued to watch as the boys all lined up again for drills. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Maybe if we pushed him a bit towards becoming a royal bodyguard...”

“We could do that?” Balthazar felt his eyebrows rise. He was still fairly new to this Fool stuff, every time Gabriel explained something else that they could get away with he was thrown.

“Sure. Well, I can start now. Once you've established yourself you'll be able to. The Court Fool has a lot more clout than most people think we do.” Gabriel turned his head to the side and watched the noblewoman practically throwing herself at the Crown Prince. He frowned, then a wicked look entered his eyes. “Bal, what do you think of the tart down there?”

Balthazar glanced down, then screwed up his face.

“She wouldn't be a good queen. More worried about status than actually looking after the subjects. Crown-”

“Ah ah,” Gabriel wagged a finger, and Balthazar swallowed before trying again.

“Michael shouldn't encourage her.”

“Better.” The older Fool took something out of his pocket – a small mouse, Balthazar saw – and carefully aimed. “Three... two... one...” He dropped the mouse, which fell down through the air and landed right in the woman's cleavage.

Chaos immediately erupted, and it was only Queen Grace who looked up to see the two Fools laughing and clutching at the beams they sat on.

~*~

Balthazar waited until Castiel – the boy who'd caught his eye several days earlier – was settled in and eating before delivering the new orders. Of course he couldn't just walk up to him, especially not when he was in the middle of the barracks' mess hall. That wouldn't have nearly enough shock value. Instead, Balthazar slid down one of the chains attached to the heavy chandelier, ending up with his eyes on level with Castiel's, though Balthazar was upside-down. The two boys stared at each other for a while, as whispers started and quickly spread. It was practically unheard-of for either Fool to enter the soldiers' area, and Balthazar was in full Trickster regalia.

Once he'd looked his fill, memorising every detail of Castiel's face, Balthazar broke into a smile. Castiel still looked solemn, but tilted his head to one side, curious.

“You're going to be the little royal's bodyguard,” Balthazar spoke. “Don't fuck it up.” With that he stole the roll from Castiel's plate and scrambled back up the chain, still upside-down, ignoring the protests from the other trainee-guards and the full-grown soldiers.

He noticed that Castiel didn't object to the news or to his exit, merely stared after him. Balthazar winked at the other boy before slipping away, shadows rapidly cloaking him and helping him stay out of sight of the soldiers.

Two days later, Balthazar watched Castiel being personally trained by the head of the royal guard, and smiled. He liked the solemn young boy, and was eager to see how far he'd go.

~*~

Unseen, Balthazar slipped into the new-born princess' room. Lucille, she'd been named. The entire city had been celebrating ever since the successful delivery, though Queen Grace had been in danger a few times. She'd held out though, and the gift of a daughter was her reward.

Balthazar had heard talk in the servants' quarters that the little princess was having trouble sleeping, being fussy and uncooperative. Privately it didn't surprise him – if people kept picking him up and showing him off, Balthazar was pretty sure that he'd be in a foul mood too. Still, he was bound to serve the royal family. So here he was, glancing around the dark room, getting his bearings before crossing to the crib where Princess Lucille was making soft sounds of distress.

“Hey there baby girl,” Balthazar spoke gently. He wasn't big enough to reach over and take her out, but he slipped a hand through the bars of the crib and gently played with her fingers. “Let's see about getting you to sleep some, hmm?”

With the infant's fingers clutching one of his, Balthazar began to sing a song he remembered from months before, when his own mama was still alive and sang to him at night. It was a soft, almost sombre song about an old sailor at the end of his life.

As he trailed off into silence at the end of the song, Balthazar felt something in the room change, and turned. He swallowed hard at the sight of Queen Grace in the doorway, watching him, and quickly stood.

“There's no need for that,” the queen smiled softly and shook her head. “You managed to get my daughter to sleep peacefully. I'm grateful.”

“I just...” Balthazar looked down again, embarrassed. “My mum used to sing that to me. Thought it might help.”

The queen reached out and cupped Balthazar's chin in her hand, gently forcing his head up.

“You're already so thoughtful,” she smiled, as beautiful and kind as all of the stories said she was. “Gabriel will never leave this family for long, I know that. One day Lucille will need to leave, to marry and become a queen in her own right. It would ease my heart if you would stay with her.” A shadow seemed to fall across the queen's face as she thought. “It is never easy to leave one's home to live amongst strangers. She will have her guard of course, but it would be nice to have someone unafraid to speak to her as an equal.”

“Of course,” Balthazar agreed, feeling sadness growing within him. He thought that Queen Grace was probably talking about how she felt when she first came to Christia to be the queen. “I'll always watch over Lucy. Promise.”

 

~NOW~

 

Sam held Lucille tight as she cried, shaking with the force of her grief already. Part of him was astonished – his wife never showed this much emotion, she was a brilliant politician and could mask her true feelings with ease. Another part of him, however, thought about what he'd do if Dean were to die, and understood her pain. Dean had done so much for him, stepping aside into the role of General rather than claiming his birthright and becoming King, merely because he thought that Sam would be better at it.

He knew that if there was ever the choice, Dean would do the same as what Balthazar had, and would sacrifice himself. If it did happen, Sam also knew that he would be torn apart by grief and would struggle to keep functioning.

“Cassie, I can't...” Balthazar wheezed then, and Castiel let out a broken sound even as he gathered up his friend into his arms. The guard lay back on the bed, jester cradled against his body while Lucille snapped at servants and ordered warm water and a cloth before joining them.

Sam's heart ached as he watched, knowing that while Lucille wouldn't turn him away, he wasn't part of this. The three were entwined too closely to really have anyone else join them right now. He wondered, though, where Dean was. Surely Castiel would want him soon, when he could no longer stand the grief alone.

~*~ THEN ~*~

“Balthy?”

“Yes, little Lucy?”

“I'm not that little.”

Balthazar let out a laugh at the pout on the young princess' face, and slung his arm around her shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you're half my size. You're little. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll end up at least as tall as me. Maybe taller, if you eat properly and continue bucking tradition.”

“Why do you always say that?” Lucille asked, curious as ever. “You always want me to do things different to what the ladies in the court do.”

“Because they usually don't think,” Balthazar shrugged easily. “But you, m'dear, you have a mind of your own. Develop it and use it. No one expects anything of a mere woman – so you go and do everything! Show 'em up, make them into the fools they are.”

“Okay,” Lucille nodded. “You're my best friend. You know that, right?”

“Of course. You like Cas too, don't you?”

“Yeah. He lets me get away with a lot,” she giggled. “He just follows along with whatever I want, and makes sure no one tries to hurt me. He's the bestest bodyguard ever.”

“He's pretty awesome,” Balthazar nodded as they rounded a corner and saw Castiel approaching them. Balthazar had noticed his heart starting to beat faster whenever the other boy was near, and knew that he was more than a little in love.

“There you are,” Castiel's hard expression softened as he saw the others. “Princess, your mother wants to talk to you. Something about a grass snake in a certain visiting dignitary's bed.”

“So that's where Azazel got to!” Lucille clapped her hands. “I hope he's okay, he got out of his cage again.”

“Of course he did.”

Balthazar slipped back and watched as Castiel escorted Lucille away. The little girl turned and waved at him, making him smile and wave back, and he knew he was in trouble. While Balthazar had feelings for Castiel, he was also firmly wrapped around Lucy's little finger.

I'm gonna be so screwed when she grows up, he thought to himself.

~*~

Balthazar felt like he was floating. Today was his sixteenth birthday, though only Castiel, Lucille and Gabriel knew it. Lucille had given him a special new type of face-paint that sparkled, and the two had promptly gotten into a play-fight trying to paint each other.

Then he'd come across Castiel in the halls, and had been given his first kiss.

It wasn't much more than a brief slide of lips, both boys suddenly shy, but it was the first time Balthazar had known that his interest was returned. He was currently laying on his back on the floor of his small bedroom, staring up at the ceiling he'd painted. Lucy loved visiting the tiny space and listening to the stories that he spun to go along with the pictures.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Balthazar sprang up to answer it. On the other side was Castiel – though he was holding himself oddly, stiffer than usual. Balthazar didn't think much of it, just stepped forward to get closer to the boy he loved.

To his surprise though, Castiel stepped back and looked down.

“Cas? What's...”

“I'm sorry for earlier,” Castiel spoke, all inflection drained from his voice, leaving him sounding oddly blank. “I overstepped my bounds. I apologise for acting inappropriately. I will not attempt to sully you again.”

“Sully me?” Balthazar grinned, though there was a pit of dread slowly forming in his stomach. Did Castiel regret the kiss? “Pretty sure nothing you can do could sully me. I'm a Fool, remember? Maybe I could sully you though. Wanna give it a shot?”

That brought a spark of life back to his friend, and Castiel shot him a look of exasperation mixed with a hint of fondness.

“No. I cannot be involved with you like that. I apologise.” With that, Castiel turned to walk away. Balthazar was about to protest, to grab him and kiss him again, when he saw the thin line of red on the back of Castiel's tunic. As he watched, another one formed, and Balthazar recognised what it was.

Blood. Castiel had been beaten. With a sick feeling, Balthazar realised that Castiel had been punished for having thoughts for another male.

“Hey Cassie,” he called out. Castiel paused and looked over his shoulder, seeming to plead with his eyes for Balthazar to not press the issue. For him to be this afraid of reprisal, it had to have been either Michael or Raphael who punished him. If it were anyone else, they could just ask Lucy to overrule them. Balthazar smiled sadly, though he knew that Castiel wouldn't be able to tell the nuance underneath the face paint. “I'm still your best friend, right?”

“Correct,” Castiel nodded, tension seeping out of his frame at the unspoken promise. Balthazar understood his position, and wasn't going to risk it. Instead, they parted ways, and Balthazar went back to his room and curled up on top of his bed, this time feeling as though he was drowning.

~*~

Balthazar was not hiding. Nope. He was most certainly not avoiding any of the halls where Michael – soon to be crowned king – might be found.

He glanced out of the window, where only the day before the streets had been lined with mourners as King Christopher's body was taken to the mausoleum.

Oh hell, he thought to himself. You are hiding. This is pitiful – you're twenty one! Man up and deal with your fears.

“Balthazar!”

Pulled out of his musing, Balthazar turned and smiled at Lucille. The princess was growing rapidly, turning into a lovely young woman. While she could sometimes still be a bit of a brat, she was at least learning to hide her thoughts and use strategy in political dealings.

“What can I do for you, little Lucy?”

“I...” Lucille paused, then sat heavily beside him. “I overheard Michael talking to that diplomat from Kansaia. He's arranging a marriage for me to their king.”

A cold shiver went through Balthazar. He knew that Michael wasn't a romantic, but to barter his only sister's marriage?

“You're too young for that,” Balthazar said instead. “Fourteen's much too young to be married.”

“Not really,” Lucille hung her head, shoulders slumped as she leaned into Balthazar's one-armed hug. “There's girls in the city my age who are married, and you know how many suitors I've had. They just never got around to asking for my hand officially.”

“Of course not,” Balthazar grinned. He'd made sure that no inappropriate suitors had gotten too close to Lucille. It was just a shame that he'd missed the signs of the king of Kansaia wanting to wed his little princess.

“Anyway,” she continued, “they're discussing dowries and stuff. It sounds like...” she trailed off again, swallowing hard. “It sounds like it could be a good thing. Politically. Kansaia have some of the best cavalry, and with their support we could push back Daemonia for good.”

“Hm. What do you really think?”

There was silence for a while, as they sat together and watched the city far below going about its business.

“I think I'll never be with the man I really love. So maybe I should marry King Samuel. At least it'll be good for the kingdom.”

“You love someone?” Balthazar asked, surprised. He hadn't seen any sign of Lucille showing affection for anyone. Then again, she rarely spent any time just being herself, unless it was with him or Castiel. At that thought, he forced himself to smile past the pain. “Is it Cassie?”

“No,” Lucille rolled her eyes, shooting him a you're such an idiot look. She was very good at those. “I mean, he's cute and all, and I know he'll always protect me. And I wouldn't mind being married to him. In I way, I guess I do love him. But I'm not in love with him.”

“Okay,” Balthazar nodded. “I can see that. So who's the lucky guy? Maybe I can swindle so–”

He was cut off as Lucille crushed their mouths together, clearly not knowing what she was doing but eager to learn. Once the shock wore off, Balthazar gently grasped the back of her head and tilted it, easing up the pressure of their lips without ending the kiss. It was a surprise to him, knowing that Lucille loved him like this, but he'd known that he would do anything for her for a long time. In a way, he realised that he'd been falling for his princess ever since she'd started developing into a woman.

Eventually, Lucille pulled back, face flushed and eyes shining. Balthazar smiled and pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“Oh, my little Lucy,” he whispered. “Now I understand. And you're right. I can get away with a lot as a Fool, but this is one line we can't cross.”

“I'll always love you most,” Lucille said firmly, with all the conviction of youth. “I promise. I don't want to go get married in another kingdom and leave you here.”

“Who said I'll be staying here?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

“You'll come with me?”

“Of course,” he pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back, smiling as she hugged back. “A Fool goes wherever he wants. My loyalty is to you, my princess, and I'll always follow you. To the edge of the cliff and over it.”

“Thank you,” Lucille's grip tightened, and Balthazar felt her start to shake as she cried. “I don't want to lose you. You and Cas are everything to me.”

“I know. We'll both be with you. You can be happy with your husband, and you'll be a wonderful queen. Especially with us poking you whenever you make a bad decision.”

Lucille's shoulders shook again, this time in laughter, and this time Balthazar joined her. He wasn't looking forward to leaving, but he'd spoken the truth. He'd follow Lucille wherever she decided to go.

 

~NOW~

 

Dean slipped into the room, face drawn. He wasn't looking forward to telling anyone the news – that the person who had hired the assassin was a woman who Sam used to love, a woman who'd been angling to become queen for years. Ruby had tried to trick Sam into marrying her by faking a pregnancy, and by trying to manipulate him. Dean had stepped in, however, and ensured that Sam wasn't dragged down into that mess.

As he watched the trio on the bed, however, a horrible feeling started to pool in Dean's gut. Lucille was washing Balthazar's face free of paint, being far more gentle than she'd been with anyone as far as Dean knew. And the way that Castiel was holding the fool, eyes shining with tears...

Dean knew in that instant, and felt like the worst human being alive. A glance in Sam's direction proved that the young king didn't know it yet, but was starting to sense something off. When he turned back to the bed, Dean knew he couldn't let Sam's temper destroy this. Both Lucille and Castiel were already being punished enough – they were watching the man they both loved die.

“Be strong little Lucy,” Balthazar was speaking softly, voice thick with pain. “Never let 'em know you're down. No one expects a woman to do anything...”

“So do everything,” Lucille finished, as though she'd heard the saying a million times before. From the weak smile on her face, Dean would bet that it was something Balthazar had told her often as a child.

“An' Cassie,” Balthazar turned to Dean's lover, and he had to bite down hard on his tongue at the tender look the men shared. “Make sure to scold her when she's being a brat. Someone's gotta keep her in line.”

“Of course,” Castiel nodded. “You always know best.”

“Yeah,” Balthazar closed his eyes briefly, masking the pain, and Dean realised something else. He was certain that Castiel had never been unfaithful to him, and Lucille wouldn't be stupid enough to risk plunging their kingdoms into war by having an affair. Which meant that Balthazar had been watching his loved ones be happy without him.

In a heartbeat, Dean forgave the trickster for everything he'd ever done or said. Because Balthazar could have destroyed his relationship and Sam's marriage, but had chosen to remain alone instead.

~*~ THEN ~*~

As it turned out, it was another year before King Samuel and his older brother, Warlord Dean, visited Christia to formalise the marriage arrangements. Lucille was growing lovelier every day, long blonde hair and bright blue eyes softening the fact that she was taller and more muscled than most girls her age. Balthazar taught her all about face paint and makeup, meaning that she knew best how to highlight her best features and draw attention away from her flaws.

Despite Balthazar's personal misgivings, he had to admit that King Samuel impressed him. The man was only a year younger than him, but was already proving to be a stable and thoughtful king. He was also showing the utmost respect for Lucille, and spoke to her like she was a person with her own mind. It eased Balthazar's lingering fears, and he knew that the royal couple could be happy together.

When Balthazar woke up a week after the Kansaia nobles had arrived, he knew it was going to be a bad day and was tempted to just stay in bed. It wasn't like anyone would really miss him. In the end, he managed to drag himself up and put on his brightest colours, painting his face to look as cheerful as possible. He just couldn't fight the foreboding feeling in his chest.

The first blow came when he went to visit Queen Grace, only to find her bedridden and barely conscious. It was common knowledge that she was ailing, but to have her health fail so quickly was a hard knock to take. Balthazar loved his queen dearly, and knew that she was upset about Lucille's marriage being arranged like this.

Leaving the queen alone with Gabriel, who was trying not to let anyone know how upset he was, Balthazar wandered the halls of the castle for a while before he ended up in the gardens. He rounded a corner, only to see King Samuel kissing Lucille.

It felt like a knife was being plunged into his gut. Balthazar had thought that he was okay with Lucy marrying another, but now he knew that he would never be okay with someone else touching her. He quickly spun on his heel and walked away before he could do something stupid, like go and pull a clump of Samuel's stupid hair out.

He'd seen one of the usual Palace Guards near the couple, so knew that Castiel would be elsewhere. Course of action decided, Balthazar went back into the castle and climbed up into the rafters of one of the passages off of the main hall. Balthazar quickly spotted his friend walking out of the hall, looking utterly confused at something Warlord Dean was saying. He sat on the rafter and waited, listening in trepidation.

“I... do not understand,” Castiel blinked in confusion, head tilted in that adorable way. Balthazar closed his eyes and stamped down on the jealousy. Castiel wasn't his, couldn't be his, in the same way Lucy couldn't be.

It didn't mean that it hurt any less to see Castiel interested in someone else.

“Forget it,” he heard Dean sigh. “I'll see you later.”

Once Dean had walked away, back into the hall, Balthazar took a small stuffed ball from his pocket and threw it at Castiel's head.

“Hello Balthazar,” Castiel commented without looking up, merely retrieving the ball for his friend. “What can I do for you?”

“You do know that Dean was flirting with you, right?” Balthazar opted for the direct approach. While Castiel could be subtle and sneaky, he could also be socially oblivious.

“I know,” Castiel waited while Balthazar jumped down from the rafter, landing next to him. The ball was handed back, and the pair started walking away from the hall. “I just don't know what to do about it.”

“Hm. C'mon,” Balthazar grabbed Castiel's arm and took off running. This wasn't a conversation that should be had in public. He quickly slid them both behind a statue and into the network of secret passageways that very few could navigate. Balthazar, naturally, felt right at home in the tunnels and often used them to his advantage to find out things he shouldn't know.

They emerged a little later in Balthazar's room, still the same tiny painted area with just enough space for a small bed and trunk filled with colourful clothes. Balthazar was of the opinion that it used to be a closet, and had yet to find any evidence otherwise.

“So,” he started again after pushing Cas to sit on top of the trunk. “Deano's flirting. You like? You don't like? You want me to put frogs in his bed or dye his hair pink?”

Castiel ignored the offer and instead picked up a bright blue scarf. Balthazar noted idly that it matched Castiel's eyes rather well.

“I think I like,” Castiel answered softly. “I just... don't know what to do about it. Michael...” He glanced up at Balthazar, and the Fool swallowed the urge to go and commit violence against the king. Castiel was still afraid of his sexuality after that harsh lesson.

“Michael can go suck a barrel of cocks,” Balthazar spoke flatly. “Anyway, you're coming with Lucy and I to Kansaia, right?” He paused briefly, glad when Castiel nodded without hesitation. “That means you don't have to stick with Christia's morals. And if the Warlord himself is a bone smuggler, then you might actually get to have a relationship.”

“Perhaps,” Castiel rolled his eyes, avoiding Balthazar's gaze. “I suppose King Michael cannot punish me if it's the Warlord who is pursuing me. To show displeasure might undo the alliance that Lucille is creating.”

“Exactly,” Balthazar bit out. He didn't want to be reminded that the noble brothers of Kansaia were stealing both of the people he loved. “Now, how are you going to let Dean know you'd like to do some tactical night manoeuvres with him?”

“You're incorrigible,” Castiel sounded irritated, but his lip was curled up slightly in amusement. “I... don't know.” He seemed to slump in defeat. “This is all new. If I mess this up, living in Kansaia in constant proximity to Dean will be awful.”

Balthazar watched his friend for a moment, then made a decision. He was used to being alone, he could handle it. But Castiel deserved to have someone who loved him. Leaning down, Balthazar searched under his bed for some herbs he'd been keeping for a special occasion. Once found, he crushed them in his hand, taking care not to breath them in.

“Balthazar?” Castiel sounded cautious but curious. “What are you doing?”

In one swift movement, Balthazar sat up and spun, blowing the herbs into Castiel's face. The guard coughed for a moment before slumping over, unconscious. Balthazar quickly caught him before he could fall and injure himself, then lay him back on the bed.

“You'll thank me for this,” he whispered sadly, before searching out the antidote. Once he was satisfied, he picked Castiel up and awkwardly carried him back through the passages, unseen by the castle inhabitants mere feet away, until he arrived in the suite he knew Dean was using. A quick look into the room confirmed that it was currently empty, and Balthazar slipped out, Castiel still fast asleep.

It was fairly simple to undress Castiel, though it was incredibly difficult for Balthazar to keep from running his hands over Castiel's skin. He wished that he could have Castiel naked in his own bed, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Instead, he arranged the man in what he considered a pleasing position, and used the blue scarf that Castiel had somehow kept hold of to tie his hands to the headboard.

Stepping back, Balthazar took in the sight and had to fight the urge to say 'screw Dean' and take advantage of his friend. He was hard in his tights, and knew that he'd have to avoid other people for a while until it was less noticeable. Then he realised that he didn't have anything to tell Dean that the small vial was an antidote to the sleeping powder. Swearing, he searched his pocket and found a small tub of red face paint.

“Well, it'll have to do.”

He just finished when he heard footsteps approaching the room. With a final touch to Castiel's cheek Balthazar fled, closing the hidden door and taking up a place by the peep-hole just as Dean entered the room.

“Stupid politics, why can't they all just – what the hell?” Dean froze as he caught sight of the present on the bed. Balthazar had to stifle a laugh at the look on his face, completely stunned. “Castiel?”

There was no answer, of course. Balthazar watched as Dean moved closer, obviously wary even as he appreciated the view. The man's lips moved as he saw the word 'Antidote' written across Castiel's chest in red face paint with an arrow pointing at the vial resting on his stomach. Writing that had been the sweetest torture for Balthazar.

For a moment, Balthazar wondered what Dean was going to do. That was the reason he was staying, he assured himself – to ensure that Dean didn't hurt Castiel. Then Dean picked up the vial and sniffed it, before tasting a drop. Those simple actions eased much of Balthazar's fears, knowing that Dean wasn't going to just feed Castiel something assuming that it wouldn't hurt him. After a few seconds with no side-effects, Dean gently cradled Castiel's head and tipped the contents of the vial into his mouth, being gentle with him.

Soon Castiel spluttered a little as he woke, blue eyes blinking up at Dean.

“What? Dean?”

“Hey there,” Dean grinned down at him. “Guess you weren't as indifferent as I thought.”

“I, no...” Castiel looked around, then down at himself, and Balthazar again stifled a laugh at the flush that crossed his friend's skin. “I'm going to murder that Fool.”

“Oh?” Dean's voice had lowered, and Balthazar had to admit that it was quite pleasing to listen to. “I might have to thank whoever left you here. They've done me quite the favour.”

With that, Dean claimed Castiel's lips for himself. After a beat, Castiel was kissing back, arching his neck to get closer, and Balthazar had to turn away. Castiel was in safe hands.

The walk back to his room felt too long, and it was only when he stepped out into the hallway that he realised he hadn't gone to his own room. He was standing outside of Gabriel's quarters. After a moment, he knocked and entered. Gabriel was sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by colourful scraps of fabric that he was sewing into a cape.

With one look at Balthazar, Gabriel opened his arms, project tossed aside. Balthazar fell into his mentor's embrace and burst into tears, sobbing out his pain as Gabriel held him, feeling just like the child he'd been the last time Gabriel had comforted him like this. He couldn't imagine how he was going to survive in Kansaia, watching both Lucy and Castiel happy in relationships without him.

“I'm so sorry,” Gabriel was speaking, trying to lend what comfort he could. “I never wanted to see you sad. If I could fix things I would.”

“How do I keep going?” Balthazar asked, voice strained. “I love him. I love her. I love them both so much. How do I watch them go on without me?”

“I don't know,” Gabriel admitted. “You'll find a way, though. You're stronger than you think you are. You're stronger than I am. One day you'll find balance. For now, though... grieve.”

Balthazar took Gabriel's advice, and grieved for the love he'd never get to express.

~*~

The day of the wedding was everything that could have been hoped for. Both the weather and the bride were beautiful, and if Lucille was nervous she certainly didn't show it. Balthazar had already scouted out most of the castle, and watched from a vantage point on one of the high window sills. He wasn't sure where his fascination with high places came from, but he was willing to indulge it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Rather than watch as Lucille pledged herself to another man, Balthazar watched the crowd for their reactions. He already knew that most would try to take advantage of her youth and supposed inexperience, and would promptly be trodden on. Growing up with so many older male role models had left Lucille with a very strong sense of self. In a way, Balthazar was almost looking forward to the first time someone tried to challenge her. It would certainly be interesting.

There were a few nobles who seemed decent, he had to admit. Sir Robert, who had been Warlord for the previous king until an injury crippled him, was gruff and to the point, and treated everyone exactly the same. Lady Harvelle and her daughter seemed welcoming if a little wary, which Balthazar considered a perfectly reasonable response.

While he continued to watch the crowd, the ceremony dragged on. Balthazar was certain that he saw Dean yawn at one point, and grinned. There were rumours running all over the castle about him and Castiel already, and the Warlord had done nothing to discourage them. If anything, the blatant eye-fucking the pair indulged in was only getting worse with time, and Dean had joined the list of people whose personal space Castiel ignored. It hurt a little to be replaced so easily, but Balthazar was sure that the sting would fade in time. He'd had seven years to get over it. Surely he only needed another fifty or so.

~*~

The reception was going well, Balthazar thought. He'd already made three nobles inadvertently reveal their true allegiances, though he didn't think anyone other than Sir Robert and Castiel had noticed, and had slipped itching powder down the back of a rude duke's breeches. He was currently juggling his stuffed balls, entertaining a group of children who'd been forced to attend for various reasons, though he had heard several mutterings of how having a Fool in the court was antiquated and unnecessary. Balthazar tried not to let it get to him.

When he finished with a flourish, the children all laughed and clapped, making him feel better. Part of Balthazar lived for the times when he got this sort of encouragement from his audience. Then, as always, they wandered away and left him alone to watch the crowds and keep an ear out for juicy gossip or useful information.

It amazed Balthazar sometimes how easy it was for him to blend into the background when he didn't want to be noticed. Even when he was wearing bright, clashing colours and jingling bells, for some strange reason he was able to pass relatively unnoticed through a crowd. Maybe it was because everyone wished so hard for him to not be there that they convinced themselves he wasn't.

After a while, he noticed that Sam and Lucy weren't at the high table any more, and decided to go and find them. Not only would it be something interesting to do, he could also make sure that Sam wasn't going to mistreat his new wife.

“Why did he follow you here?” Balthazar heard then, and quickly stepped into the shadows cast by a large leafy plant between the torches lighting the hall. Here he could remain unseen while hearing whatever it was that the king sounded rather annoyed about.

“Because he's a Fool,” Lucy sounded just as annoyed. “He does what he wants, and you're not going to stop him.”

“But he's already gotten on the bad side of too many nobles. He needs to be reigned in.”

“No.”

Balthazar couldn't help but smile. If Sam thought he was going to change Lucy's mind about something, he was in for a rude shock.

“Lucille, I know that he's your friend...”

“He and Cas are the only friends I have,” Lucy butted in. “Back in Christia, the position of Fool was special. Balthazar and Gabriel weren't just idiots who made fun of people, they were also the king's spies in the court. It's incredibly difficult to hide things from them, and Balthazar's loyal to me.” There was a pause, and Balthazar could just imagine the glare that Lucy was giving Sam. “If you drive him away or harm him in any way, I will delight in making your life as miserable as possible without it affecting the kingdom. You know I can. So suck it up and deal with it.”

After a few moments of silence, Balthazar heard a sigh. He grinned to himself. Round one went to Lucy.

“Just warn him not to piss off Dean too much, okay? He's Warlord for a reason.”

~*~

The next interesting conversation to be overheard was between Dean and Castiel. Balthazar was pleased with the amount of hiding places he'd already found, but knew that there was also a downside to this – the castle was just riddled with areas that anyone could utilise to spy on others. He should probably have a word with Lucy, make sure she knew to be careful.

“I'm going to kill that scrawny little–”

“He's not that much shorter than you.”

“Yeah, well... he's still scrawny!”

“He needs to be light enough to walk on beams overhead without being noticed.”

Balthazar tried not to laugh as Castiel shot down each of Dean's insults. Not that they were really insults, he'd heard much worse plenty of times before.

“...Okay, I get the point. Still, why does he keep picking on me? I thought he was meant to be looking after the queen, I'm not a threat to her!”

“He's also looking after me,” Castiel spoke calmly. Balthazar could just see the incredulous look on Dean's face at that.

“What? You don't need someone looking after you.”

“Balthazar is the one who removed me from the town guards.” There was a slight tone of annoyance creeping into Castiel's posture. Not that anyone else would notice, the man was able to hide almost any emotion from onlookers. “He has done much for me, and simply wishes to ensure that you aren't going to hurt me.”

“He thinks that?” Dean looked puzzled. “I thought he was the one who tied you up for me?”

“Yes,” Castiel's head bowed a little. “However, I believe that he wants to ensure that you treat me properly. He knows that I...” Castiel trailed off, and Balthazar knew he was trying to find the words to describe the incident with Michael. “I have had some difficulties.”

“This about those scars on your back?” Dean asked softly. “He wants to make sure that doesn't happen again?”

“I believe so.”

After a beat, Balthazar watched as Dean stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Castiel, kissing him tenderly. His heart ached, but he was a little relieved to know that Dean understood his position.

“Okay then,” Dean smiled softly. “I'll try not to take things personally. We might not ever get along, but I can put up with pranks.”

“Feel free to prank him back,” Castiel pointed out. “If anything, it will win you points in his eyes if you can adapt to what he throws at you.”

“Hm. Good idea.”

 

~NOW~

 

Lucille only vaguely registered that Dean had come back into the room, instead intent on her task of bathing Balthazar's face. It didn't take much to wipe the paint away, leaving his usually so happy face clean. Now she could see the exhaustion, the lines of pain and heartache that the years had inflicted on him.

Unthinking of the consequences, she cupped Balthazar's cheek and gazed into eyes that were slowly clouding. He still had enough mind left, though, to move a hand and squeeze her fingers.

“Please,” he rasped. “One final send off?”

Lucille didn't trust herself to speak, and instead bowed her head to press their lips together. She poured all the love she felt into the kiss, trying to keep her sobs from escaping again. Once she pulled back, she helped Balthazar to sit enough to get a matching kiss from Castiel, which drove more tears from her eyes.

Behind them she could hear both Sam and Dean shifting, probably angry about what would be seen as an unfaithful act, but she didn't care. She'd done her part, married to keep the peace and born a son to be heir, and she had been happy with Sam. Balthazar had to have been hurt by it, but he'd kept silent.

He'd kept silent as well when Castiel had confessed to liking the attention that Dean paid him, and had even pushed the two together. Lucille didn't know how he could have done that, allowed himself to keep getting hurt while he watched the people he loved most be with other people. It didn't matter now, though.

Both Lucille and Castiel felt it when Balthazar died. His body shuddered and he gasped for breath, voice weakly crying out in pain, before he finally stilled. Lucille cried out in anguish, a sound that was echoed by Castiel's own cry. She felt her bodyguard's arms around her, grounding her as she let her grief overtake her.

Lucille had been in love with Balthazar for what felt like her whole life, and from all accounts Castiel had harboured similar feelings until Dean had come along. She knew that they'd broken his heart, and now he'd done the same.

“We followed the Fool to the cliff's edge,” Castiel whispered into her hair. Lucille pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, and knew that they felt the same thing. They might be able to survive without Balthazar, but they wouldn't live without him.

“We'll follow him over it,” she confirmed, moments before Sam's large hand grasped her arm.


End file.
